Lean On Me
by ZeroGravityDog
Summary: FE9 He couldn't converse with the woman who loved his father, the silly little mage with absolute faith and devotion for him, his own flesh and blood. Not until he disclosed the information to them. Not until he could understand it all.  B/w Ch19 & Ch25


I really don't know what's gotten into me. I guess I'm just in need of a Fire Emblem fix! XD And a Volke fix! Why? Because he's awesome and he's an assassin. And I've been playing Assassin's Creed and Fire Emblem at the same time! 8D (Not really at the same time, but you get the idea) I've got assassins on the brain!

Disclaimer: Don't own Fire Emblem

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><p>Lean On Me<p>

Volke gazed as the soldiers walked by, never noticing him. He blew some smoke out, the pipe a warm comfort in his hand in the frozen landscape that was Daein. The fireman took another moment, counting to thirty before dropping down from the tree branches. The sun was just bidding Tellius a goodbye as he emptied his pipe in preparation of another smoke at a later date. Volke gently packed it away, before heading to the heart of the camp.

It was a rare thing for the general to summon him to his quarters; a lonely tent in the center of the camp, much to the general's protests. Or it would've been, however, it had been happening more frequently since Volke had disclosed **that **information. He didn't like it. It was becoming a habit.

The boy's temporary home was a tent fit for the role he now possessed; a general. However it looked out of place, and Volke frowned beneath his mask. It didn't suit Ike, but Soren and Titania had persuaded him into using it. They knew it wasn't to the boy's liking, but sacrifices had to be made. The army had to maintain the Crimea core. The only sliver of comfort the boy had was his family was encamped around him.

The fireman paused at the edge of the circle the Greil Mercenaries made. He mentally grimaced at the openness of the area. Oscar was cleaning alongside Mist and a few unhappy 'volunteers'. His eyes scanned the area, finding escape routes, the best positions for attack. His mind was on auto-pilot. The scarf flickered in the air from a sudden gust of wind before it and the air died down again.

It was a mild evening for Daein at least.

The more observant soldiers frowned at him distaste clearly written on their faces.

Men and their morals.

Volke supposed that's what made them soldiers and him an assassin.

He only held two rules.

One, keep the contract.

Two, keep the gold.

He resumed his walk, snow crunching underneath his boots. Again, only the more observant noticed him in the faded light; that being the Deputy Commander, the tactician, and their cook.

Titania gave him a weary look and Oscar gazed at him longer then necessary. Soren was glaring at his back, but the assassin paid them no mind. Volke strode towards the unnecessary large tent. He could've sworn he caught sight of Captain Zelgius as well, but the fireman couldn't confirm it.

He involuntarily shivered. Volke didn't like the Bengion man and made a note to look into his history.

Knowledge was an assassin's best companion next to the knives he carried.

Volke knew what it was the boy wanted.

Ike was looking to piece together the burden, the dark secret his father kept. However, he couldn't converse with the woman who loved his father, he couldn't converse with the silly little mage with absolute faith and devotion for him, he couldn't converse with his own flesh and blood.

Not until he disclosed the information to them. Not until he could understand it all.

Volke frowned, noticing he was standing in front of the general's tent.

How long had he been standing there?

He shoved the cloth aside to see the general sitting on the bed, fingers laced together, chin resting on them, his eyes staring a hole through the fabric of his temporary home. Volke took a seat beside Ike, remaining quiet as he did so. Ike made no acknowledgement of the assassin.

Volke leaned forward, lacing his hands together, resting his arms on his knees and closed his eyes. He could hear the boy's steady breathing if he focused enough. Outside someone was being greeted warmly by the Greil Mercenaries and the wind picked up again before quietly settling down, hopefully for the remainder of the night.

The boy leaned on the assassin, head resting on the man's shoulder. Volke kept still, forcing his body to relax not tense. His hands clutched at imaginary hilts before slowing relaxing.

Ike released a quite, but heavy sigh.

It was going to be one of those nights. One of the quiet ones, where neither spoke.

Not that it was unusual. The fireman rarely spoke anyway to the general, letting him ask questions, some with answers some without. He learned early on that Ike spoke his thoughts out in order to organize and obtain some kind of coherency in the midst of war.

What was unusual was when he would reply to those he could, feeling strangely forth coming, and the reason why he kept coming to the general.

It wasn't due to his contract with him.

It helped Ike.

And if it helped Ike then, Volke could ease the damn concern for the boy from his mind; tuck it away in a corner never to be touched again.

So, until the boy disclosed the information to another Volke would let Ike lean on him.

Free of charge.

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><p>And maybe I've got VolkeIke on the brain too! XD

I love the idea of Volke with a pipe. His art for Path of Radiance has him depicted with a pipe so I wanted to include it somehow.

On a completely random note, I'm pretty bad at picking out genres! Woooo~

ZGDog is out!

Or at least until the next plot worms its way into my brain.


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